O Thou Poor Storms!

 

Storms are storms. Just storms. Nothing else. They do not have much to offer both to the nature and we humans. They swirl, shriek, shake and prance around occupied by an illogical spirit. It’s just like the nature throwing some tantrums. But tantrums are never substantial man; they are just a fragile symbol of something going out of the loop for some moments. Look at nature, storms are just temporary, tiny speed-breakers on its peacefully laid out benevolent road of survival, sustenance and evolution. It applies to our lives as well. So when the ship of our being gets jolted by the angry winds just remember this is not the substance of our life. It lies in miles of peaceful, dreamy and majestic waters waiting to kiss the hull of our ship. Coming back to the poor storm. It is just a puny piece of funny quirkiness possessed with suicidal and self-consuming dispirited and rampant self. It dances in pain. While it fizzes and fumes, it burns in its own fire. It dies.

 

While its cremation takes place just be a good pyre-keeper and fulfil all the rights diligently. But keep a safe distance from the fire. It is sure to die. And, more importantly, you are sure to survive to see the flowers blossoming in that very dead ash. So please believe in peace, in tranquillity, in harmony, in noiseless distances waiting for you while you feel the heat of the burning aberration. Be a spectator. Be a valiant survivor. Do it for the sake of normal, undisturbed nautical miles lined up to allow the passage of your ship to a lush green island of your destination, where you can drop anchor and enjoy the stillness of life for some time. It has to be done because the course of normalcy is self-sustaining, kind, beneficent, forgiving and parental. The storm just burns in its fury. Allow it to do this. Harmony, orderliness and tranquillity draw life-giving sips from their own substance, from the core of their own essence. So be a good businessman. Join the peaceful bandwagon. For your own gain!